


Bosom Buddies

by Wonko



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Blind Date, Brarena, F/F, I don't know, also somehow a bra fitting AU, cate blanchett turns women bi, it's a proven fact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-19 11:51:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15509292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/pseuds/Wonko
Summary: When Serena has a bisexual awakening while watching Cate Blanchett strut around in suits in Ocean's Eight, her friend Fleur Fanshawe is the obvious person to go to for help. Fleur's idea of help is to set Serena up on a blind date - of course. And yet, Serena would probably rather spend time with the strange blonde she meets while shopping for a date outfit...





	1. Of Bisexual Awakenings and Blind Dates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lzdaydreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lzdaydreamer/gifts).



> You guys, I don't know! This is the fic I teased on tumblr which was originally to be called 'If the Bra Fits.' It's...well, it is what it is.

It was all because of Cate Blanchett. That was what Serena told herself anyway. And Fleur Fanshawe could take some of the blame...well, credit, she supposed, it wasn’t like it was a  _ bad  _ thing per se. Quite exciting, really, to be sitting in a darkened cinema at the age of 52 watching a decent if not exactly original comedy-heist caper and discovering that one was not as heterosexual as one had always supposed.

“You seemed to enjoy yourself,” Fleur remarked as they filed out at the end.

Serena took a moment to answer. “Uhm…” she managed at last. “Yes, it was...okay, actually. Better than I thought it’d be.”

Fleur had had to wheedle and cajole her to get her to come along.  _ You need a night out now and then that doesn’t involve Shiraz  _ she’d said.  _ Your liver will thank me if nothing else _ she’d said. And Serena, faced with a night on her own at home (Jason was out with his new girlfriend, a girl Serena hadn’t been permitted to meet yet called Greta) had eventually agreed.

She went to see  _ Ocean’s Eight  _ three more times on her own before the end of its theatrical run. Every time it was the same. Something about the combination of the outfits and the smirks and the swagger… 

At home, she suggested to Jason that they could watch the most recent  _ Thor  _ movie together. “You don’t like superhero films,” he said suspiciously.

She flushed. “I’m expanding my horizons,” she said defensively. Well. It was true, in a way. The film was better than she’d feared, and she actually enjoyed it quite a bit. Especially the Hela scenes.

“We could watch the whole Marvel Cinematic Universe,” Jason said excitedly. Serena waved her hand ambiguously in the air.

“Oh, maybe,” she hedged. “How about a change of pace now though. What’s that one you were trying to get me to watch when you first moved in?  _ The Lord of the Rings?” _

Slowly but surely, she worked her way through Cate Blanchett’s filmography.  _ An Ideal Husband. Notes on a Scandal. Elizabeth  _ (both of them.) She even watched a rather dire live action  _ Cinderella  _ and sat through two  _ Hobbit  _ movies with Jason, zoning out until the scenes with Galadriel.

She saved  _ Carol _ for a night when she was on her own. She fussed over the arrangements of scatter cushions on the sofa, poured wine, cut herself some slices of cheese to put on crackers for a snack. “Bloody silly old fool,” she muttered to herself. “You’re acting like this is a date.” Pulling herself together, she dimmed the lights and pressed play on the remote.

She was right to have saved this for one of Jason’s nights with Greta. Her heart was in her mouth from practically the first shot, and by the time Carol and Therese had their first kiss she was fairly sure she was having a hot flash. She had to pause the film for a few moments to catch her breath.

When it was over, she cleared up her wine glass and cheese plate. Straightened the cushions. Checked she’d left the porch light on for Jason. Then she took herself up to bed and embarked on phase two of her research.

So, it was clear she really,  _ really  _ enjoyed looking at women. At one woman, anyway. But was that as far as it went? Would she actually want to kiss one? She closed her eyes and imagined that for a moment. What would it be like? Soft, she thought. Smooth. Different than kissing a man. She brought her wrist to her lips and pressed an experimental kiss against the soft skin she found there, feeling like a teenager, embarrassed but excited too.

Would she want to do more than kissing? She let herself think about it. Soft lips on her neck. The feel of feminine curves beneath her hands. Silky hair tickling her skin as someone kissed a trail down her torso. Blonde hair, she thought dreamily. Definitely blonde. Her breath caught as she let her fingers slide down her body, following the path of her imaginary woman’s lips. It was somehow a shock to find herself wet. She didn’t normally get like this without a lot of foreplay first. Still, she thought. Waste not want not.

Later, after she’d thoroughly convinced herself that yes, she definitely would consider going further than kissing with a woman, she stood under the spray of her shower and thought about what, if anything, she was going to do about it.

* * * * *

“Knock knock.”

Serena looked up from her computer to see Fleur leaning casually against the door frame. She was holding a bag from Pulses in one hand and carrying two coffees in a cardboard carrier in the other. “One generally actually knocks on the door, rather than saying it.”

“No hands.” Fleur pushed herself off the door frame and into the room, handing Serena the bag and dragging one of the visitor’s chairs up to the desk.

Serena dug through the bag and pulled out a salmon and cream cheese bagel. “Thanks,” she said. “I was just thinking about lunch, actually.”

They ate together in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, Fleur checking her phone and firing off a couple of texts with a smirk on her lips.

“Your latest conquest?” Serena asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Just a friend, alas,” Fleur replied. “I had a go, but I drove her up the wall. She’s ex-army. Told me she knew thirteen ways to kill me with her bare hands and had already mentally gone through five of them before the starters arrived.”

Serena snorted. “Sounds like a smart cookie.” She took another sip of her coffee, deliberately avoiding Fleur’s eyes. “How did you, uhm...how did you meet her?” She was aiming for a tone of nonchalance, but not succeeding very well.

Fleur’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Serena still wouldn’t look at her. “Just wondering how you go about meeting people. Of the same...well, people who might be interested in…” She trailed off, flushing hard. “Never mind.”

Fleur sat back in her chair, an expression of utter glee on her face. “Serena Campbell, you naughty minx. Are you asking me how to pick up women?”

Serena’s flush deepened. “Maybe,” she admitted.

Fleur’s eyes were glinting with delight. “Is it my birthday? Has Christmas come six months early?”

“Forget I asked,” Serena said through clenched teeth. She turned back to her computer, feeling a little humiliated and a lot foolish. 

Fleur was instantly contrite. “Sorry,” she said, holding up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Are you saying you think you...prefer peaches to plums?” At Serena’s confused glare, she carried on. “You know. You’re looking to dine out on figs. Trading in the stilettos for sensible shoes.”

Serena looked down at the blouse she was wearing, seeing the bold fig pattern in a new light. “Okay, got it thanks,” she replied with a sigh. “And no. I mean...yes, but…” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not trading in anything. I do like men. I’m not going to suddenly stop. I just…”

“...became aware of another option?” Fleur finished for her. Serena nodded, her jaw clenched. “Well,” Fleur continued. “Bisexual is the word you’re fishing for, I believe. Excellent.”

“Is it?” Serena turned to face her again. “I mean, can I call myself that if I still like men 95% of the time?”

Fleur patted her hand. “Of course! There’s no entrance exam, you know. There’s no required attraction ratio. You can use whatever label feels right to you. Or none, if you like.” She smiled. “But welcome to the family, anyway.”

Serena managed to smile back, somewhat tremulously it was true, but she felt a little lighter, a little freer than before.

The next day was her day off. More than that, Jason was visiting Alan and staying the night. She was anticipating a luxurious day of nothing much - perhaps sunbathing for a bit in the garden, catching up on a few chapters of the novel she was reading - starting with a lie in to at least nine thirty.

Her plan was stymied at nine o’clock when her mobile rang. She groaned, blinking away sleep and trying to reorient herself back into the waking world. She’d been dreaming. She shook her head as if to clear it, images of pale skin and blonde hair fading quickly as reality took their place. Fumbling for her phone, she picked it up and answered it just before it went to voicemail.

“Serena, darling,” a familiar voice trilled, much too cheerily in Serena’s opinion. “It’s your lucky day.”

Serena blinked. “Fleur,” she sighed. “What do you want?”

“Is that the tone to strike with your favourite matchmaker? I’m wounded.”

Suddenly fully awake, Serena sat up in bed. “What?”

She could almost hear Fleur’s grin down the phone. “You’re meeting my ex-army friend for a drink tonight at The Polo Lounge. You can thank me later.”

For a moment, Serena couldn’t answer. Her brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity yet for a start, and Fleur wasn’t helping. “What?”

A sigh breezed down the line. “A blind date, dear - you have heard of them, I trust.”

“Of course!” Serena spluttered. “But...but-”

“Seven o’clock,” Fleur said, pushing on as if Serena hadn’t spoken. “She’ll be wearing a wristband in the colours of her old regiment - I’ll send you a picture.” There was a noise in the background that sounded rather like Dominic Copeland calling for assistance. “Must dash,” Fleur said. “I’ll expect a full report tomorrow!”

With that she was gone.

Serena sat back against the pillows, her mind racing. A date. Was she ready for that? And with a stranger, no less. She supposed she had suggested this as a step she was willing to take when she’d asked Fleur how to meet women - and trust her bullish friend to push on, full steam ahead. Still, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. Not as awkward as going out with someone she already knew, or God forbid someone from the hospital. If there was no spark, well...no harm done. There was no need to see the woman again.

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she tapped open the message Fleur had sent. It was a photo of someone’s wrist, wearing a stretchy looking wristband in maroon, navy and yellow. She couldn’t tell anything much about the woman to whom the wristband belonged, except that she was fair skinned and slender, with fine, delicate looking bones and short fingernails. Her research had explained the reason for the latter.

She felt herself flush as she tapped out a response.  _ Fine. But if this is a disaster, you owe me a case of Shiraz. _


	2. The Mystery Blonde and the M&S Queue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out there's going to be three chapters. Oops!

Serena thought she’d probably tried on every outfit she owned by noon, but nothing seemed quite right. It had been a while since she’d been on a date. The friend she kept in her bedside drawer had been all the company she’d needed since Robbie had disappeared over the horizon with lies about giving her a call sometime. And it hadn’t seemed to matter what she wore when she was out with him, as long as she had a push up bra on underneath.

She wondered if lesbians were as obsessed with cleavage as straight men. If so, she could probably do with some new bras. It wasn’t that she expected to be stripping off, but she thought it would probably give her some confidence, knowing she had on something silky under whatever she decided to wear.

Decision made, she made her way into town and paid the exorbitant shopping centre parking rates. Three hours would probably be enough, she thought, to pick out a nice matching set of underwear and a new dress. Maybe a new lipstick too, if she was feeling adventurous.

She noticed the blonde woman almost as soon as she arrived at the M&S lingerie section. That happened now - noticing other women. Especially blonde women. She was very pretty, Serena thought with a little flash of warmth in her chest. An inch or two taller than Serena herself, slender and effortlessly elegant looking, even in the distinctly casual skinny jeans and flannel shirt she was wearing. The top two buttons were undone, revealing pale skin dusted with freckles and collarbones that made Serena have to steady herself against a shelf of knickers.

“Hello,” she heard the woman saying to a salesgirl. “I, uhm...well, I haven’t bought a bra in the UK for a while and I’m a bit unsure about sizes. Is there anyone available for a fitting?”

Serena watched surreptitiously as the salesgirl smiled and led her over to a fitting room. It had been a while since she’d been fitted for a bra herself, she thought. She rather thought she’d gained a little weight over the last couple of years. It suited her - she liked her curves, wouldn’t change them for the world - but the clothes she was wearing day to day tended to cover up rather than accentuate. And tonight she wanted to accentuate.

“Excuse me,” she said as the salesgirl made her way back from the fitting room. “I don’t suppose I could get a fitting too?”

She was led to a brightly lit fitting room with a mirror on one side. “My colleague will be with you in just one moment,” the girl said. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Serena sat down on the little bench, zoning out for a moment until she heard voices in the cubicle next door. 

“If you’d just like to take off your top and the bra you’re wearing, we can get started.”

After a brief hesitation, the sound of rustling clothing floated through the thin divider. Serena realised that this must be the blonde woman she’d been admiring outside. The one with the collarbones. She let her eyes flutter closed as she imagined watching that rather magnificent looking woman strip off in front of her. She looked to be about her own age, though her build suggested she’d be rather perkier with a bra off than Serena was these days.

“Oh my goodness.”

It took Serena a moment to realise that she hadn’t let the fantasy run wild and said the words herself. Rather, it was the voice of the bra fitter she’d heard. Before she could stop herself, she’d let out an amused snort that she quickly covered up with a hand over her mouth. 

To her surprise, a bark of laughter greeted her indecorous response. Emboldened, she took the chance to flirt a little. “That’s either an amazing compliment or a horrible insult,” she said, hoping the stranger wouldn’t be offended.

“Shock, I think,” a voice floated back. She sounded amused, so Serena grinned and ploughed on.

“You’ve got something she hasn’t seen before? I’m impressed.” Another laugh made her grin widen. 

“Oh, you should be.”

Their back and forth was cut off by the arrival of Serena’s bra fitter; a sour-faced woman who looked like she ate about six hundred calories a day and considered low fat cottage cheese a treat. “Take your top and bra off please,” the woman said, brandishing her tape measure like a garrotte.

The measurements were perfunctory and businesslike. After the woman had consulted a chart, she disappeared to collect some bras for Serena to try. “Not the gentlest treatment my girls have had,” she remarked, loud enough for the woman in the next cubicle to hear.

“No?” she replied. “Mine is terrified she’s offended me and is being extremely careful.”

Again, their conversation was disrupted by the return of their fitters. Serena’s thrust a white lace underwired bra at her and watched critically as she put it on. “I’ll just make some adjustments,” she muttered and then, to Serena’s surprise and slight horror, she slid her hand inside the right cup and shifted things around until they were more to her liking.

“Excuse me!” Serena exclaimed. “I don’t mind a bit of rough, but I expect to be bought a drink first at least.”

The sour-faced bra fitter just shot her a withering glance and began what sounded like a pre-prepared speech about the importance of putting on a bra correctly, how it affected posture and back pain and breast health. Serena busied herself putting her original bra and top back on, then thanked the woman rather archly for her time before escaping back to the relative safety of the shop floor, where she expected she’d remain unmolested.

Not quite the way she’d anticipated a woman getting her hand in her bra.

She browsed for a while, armed with a slightly more accurate size than the one she’d had in her mind, before selecting some plain flesh-toned pieces for everyday wear, as well as a rather racier red silk and lace affair with matching knickers to wear on her date.

The queue was fairly long thanks to an obstreperous middle aged woman trying to pay with a lapsed gift card. Serena braced herself for a boring wait and had just begun to lapse into a daydream when she realised that the woman in front of her in the queue was none other than the blonde with whom she’d been bantering in the fitting room.

“Hello,” she said before she could think better of it. “Get everything you were looking for?”

The woman turned round in surprise, a slight frown creasing her forehead before she placed the voice. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, with a small smile. “Yes, thanks. You?”

Serena waved her armload of purchases vaguely in the air. “Yes, I managed to find a few pieces I like.” She raised an amused eyebrow. “My fitter was slightly terrifying I must say.”

The blonde laughed. “Yes, I gathered as much from what I could hear. Manhandled you a bit, did she?”

“Just a bit,” Serena replied. “I’ll not be surprised if I find fingermark shaped bruises later, let’s just say. And I didn’t even have any fun getting them!”

The other woman blushed, and Serena was struck again by just how attractive she was. “Mine was very gentle,” the blonde said. “I, uhm...I had surgery on my heart last year, so I’ve got a rather nasty scar under here.” Her fingers trailed down her chest absently, like she wasn’t really aware she was doing it. Serena’s eyes followed the path of her fingers before snapping back to her face when she continued speaking. “I think she thought she might break me.”

Serena smiled. “But you’re not that fragile, I bet.”

The other woman ducked her head. “No, I’m not.”

Another till had opened up while they were talking. “Next please,” the sales assistant called. The blonde turned her head, surprised when she saw she was next in line.

“Oh…” She turned back to Serena. “It was nice to meet you,” she said.

Serena smiled back. “Likewise,” she said. Was she imagining it or was this attractive stranger reluctant to leave? Their eyes met for a brief second and Serena thought about calling her back, asking her name.  _ Do you come here often?  _ she imagined herself saying, then internally cringed at how cliched she sounded. 

Before she’d decided what to say instead, the other woman smiled one last time and finally went up to the till to pay. By the time Serena had been called to her own till and paid, she was nowhere to be seen.

Sighing, Serena put aside the mild disappointment. She still had to find a dress for tonight.

She tried on at least a dozen outfits before settling on a calf length swing dress in a pretty red floral print. She had the perfect shoes for it at home, and she could see herself wearing it again so she considered it money well spent. Smiling to herself, she headed for the till.

“Oh,” she said as she arrived. “It’s you again.”

Her blonde acquaintance turned. “Oh!” She seemed as surprised as Serena, but pleased too. “Still here then. Been molested by any more sales assistants?”

Serena laughed. “No, but I’m about to be mugged for seventy quid.” She hesitated for a brief second, then decided to push on before she could talk herself out of it. “I’m Serena, by the way. I’ve got another hour or so on my parking. I was thinking of getting a coffee at the cafe - do you fancy coming with me?”

The blonde seemed to consider the question for a moment, long enough for Serena to start cursing herself for being so forward. The woman probably thought she was a total weirdo. Honestly, who asked strangers to coffee just because they’d had a bit of banter in an M&S queue?  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid,  _ her inner voice was screaming.

“Yes, that’d be nice,” the other woman said softly, cutting off Serena’s internal monologue like a record scratch. She held out her hand. “I’m Bernie.”


	3. Oh my Goodness, What a Coincidence

They stood next to each other in the queue staring at the menu board in slight bafflement. Latte was understandable, as was espresso and cappuccino. Other than that, the fancy names of the various drinks on offer were something of a mystery to them both. “Do you remember when coffee was just coffee?” Bernie said wistfully.

“Strong and hot’s all I care about,” Serena replied.

“Aye aye.” 

Serena smiled as their eyes met, her heart beginning to beat a little faster when Bernie’s lips curled up a little too before she looked away. They both ordered lattes and Serena added a slice of strawberry cheesecake that was too tempting to pass up, grabbing a second fork on their way to sit down in the hopes that she could convince Bernie to share.

“I hate clothes shopping,” Bernie confessed after they’d arranged their bags and taken experimental sips of their drinks.

“Do you? I love it. Though I very rarely have time to indulge.” She shook her head ruefully. “I’m a surgeon. Long hours, often unsociable, and often on call I’m afraid. Though luckily I was able to leave the pager at work today.”

Bernie nodded in understanding. “Small world. I’m a surgeon too - locuming at the moment, so I at least get to choose my own hours.” She took another sip of her drink. “What’s your specialty?”

From there they fell into a touch of shop talk, chatting about surgeons they both knew and interesting cases they’d worked on. Bernie was very easy to talk to as well as easy on the eyes, but Serena found herself a little disappointed that their conversation had turned out so impersonal. She supposed that was unfair - what else did one talk about with strangers after all? Work or the weather.

She took a bite of her cheesecake while listening to Bernie’s story about a tricky abdominal abscess she’d treated the previous week - it might have put a layman off their food, but Serena’s stomach was made of cast iron. It was good: creamy and sweet and rich and she let out an involuntary sound of pleasure as she slid the fork between her lips. It took her a moment to realise that Bernie had trailed off in the middle of her story and was staring at her with slightly dilated pupils. She felt a little thrill rush through her and she allowed herself to enjoy the slightly smug feeling that came with the knowledge that she’d had an effect on her very attractive new acquaintance. “Here,” she said, loading a generous piece onto the spare fork and holding it up. “Try some.”

For a moment it looked like Bernie was going to refuse, but then she dipped her head shyly and leaned forward, taking the dessert into her mouth. Serena watched her lips as she pulled the fork back, thinking about what it might be like to kiss her. 

“It’s good,” Bernie murmured, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

Serena smiled and handed her the fork. “Help me out with a bit more,” she urged. “Don’t want to spoil my dinner.” Their fingers brushed as Bernie accepted the cutlery and a little shiver jolted down Serena’s spine. She immediately began thinking of excuses to touch her again.

“You don’t sound like a local - have you lived in Holby long?”

They finished off their coffee and the remainder of the cheesecake while Bernie talked about the two years she’d lived in the city, how she and her now ex-husband had moved back to his hometown when his mother died. “Marcus wanted to live in the house she left him,” she said. “And I...well, I worked away a lot so it didn’t seem to matter where I was based.” 

Serena wondered for a moment if the presence of an ex-husband meant she’d read Bernie all wrong. But then, she had one of those herself, so it didn’t necessarily follow. 

“Still, it must be hard - now you’ve split up - living in a city where you don’t have that many connections,” Serena ventured, then hesitated slightly before pushing on. “You should call me next time you want a caffeine shot and a chat.” She fished in her handbag for one of her business cards, then pulled out a pen so she could scrawl her mobile number on the back.

Bernie accepted it with a smile. This time when their fingers brushed they both let the touch linger for a long second before pulling away. Bernie’s cheeks were a little pink when Serena looked up at her face.

“Deputy CEO,” Bernie read from the card. “And an MBA as well as a medical degree. You didn’t mention you were such a high flyer.” Her eyes were twinkling with amusement.

Serena arched an eyebrow towards her hairline. “Well,” she whispered with a wink, “you can’t expect me to give away all my secrets too quickly, can you?” Bernie swallowed hard and Serena couldn’t help but laugh.

“I don’t have a card,” Bernie muttered, rummaging around in her shopping bag. She pulled out a receipt and grabbed Serena’s pen to scribble her number on the back. “This’ll have to do.”

Serena accepted the scrap of paper and folded it into the main compartment of her purse, feeling the kind of uncomplicated joy she associated with winning a much coveted prize at a fairground stall.

They parted at the stairs to the car park with twin shy smiles and promises to call. The urge to lean up and press a kiss to Bernie’s cheek was very strong, but Serena thought better of it. It wouldn’t do to come on too strong, after all.

Still, Serena’s heart was very light as she picked her way through the mid-afternoon traffic. Even if the blind date tonight was a bust, she had got something out of the arrangement. She’d have been at home all day with a book or a medical journal if Fleur hadn’t set this all up, after all, and she’d have missed out on the good fortune of meeting someone interesting and funny and beautiful who made her heart beat a little faster. And what a shame that would have been.

* * * * *

“I can’t believe you picked up a woman in the queue at M&S!”

Fleur’s voice was so shrill Serena had to pull the phone an inch or two away from her ear. “I didn’t pick her up,” she protested. “I made...an interesting new friend.”

She glanced out of the taxi window, watching the houses of suburbia start to merge into the shops and bars of the city centre. She’d never been to The Polo Lounge before, but she knew from google that it was a gay bar which leaned more towards the lesbian. She’d also discovered that they had one night a week - tonight - that was advertised heavily to women over 40. She hoped that meant there’d be music she could actually recognise played at a volume low enough that she could hear her companion.

“Interesting new friend is a bigger euphemism than woman in sensible shoes,” Fleur insisted. “Honestly, little baby bisexual’s been out of the nest for five minutes and she’s already getting more play than I am! If I wasn’t so devastatingly attractive and witty I’d be concerned there was something wrong with me.”

Serena rolled her eyes expansively and let out a deep sigh for good measure, since Fleur couldn’t see her. “Who am I meeting anyway?” she asked. “What’s she like?”

Fleur’s voice took on a wistful tone. “Ah, Major Wolfe.” She let out a low whistle - a Wolfe whistle, Serena thought with a small smirk. “What can I say? Tall, blonde, legs for days. Sharp as a tack.”

“Saw through you in five seconds flat?”

“That too.”

Serena grinned. “I like her already.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up, Serena promising to fill Fleur in on all the details as soon as she got home that night. She filled the last few minutes of the cab ride letting her mind drift back to her coffee with Bernie. She absently brought up the contact information on her phone, thinking about calling her. She decided at last that she didn’t want to come on too strong, didn’t want to look too desperate. She settled for a text instead, and tapped it out before she had a chance to think better of it.

_ It was lovely to meet you today. Let me know if you fancy setting the world to rights over a glass of wine or ten sometime. Serena. _

She debated leaving an  _ x  _ on the end for a long moment, typing and then erasing it three times before eventually electing to leave it off. To her surprise, three grey dots appeared under her message almost immediately, as if Bernie had been waiting for her to text. The thought warmed her and she was smiling as she paid the driver and slipped out of the cab.

The Polo Lounge was larger than she’d expected it to be and blessedly not too loud. She found a seat at the bar and ordered a glass of Shiraz while she waited for the three dots to resolve into actual words. She imagined Bernie struggling over what to say, maybe typing and erasing her thoughts a few times too and the thought made her heart thump a little harder.

At last a message appeared.  _ I’d really like that, _ it said.  _ Are you busy on Thursday? x _

Serena took a sip of her wine as she quickly typed out her response.  _ Not at all :) Do you know Danny’s Bar on Hope Street? Three varieties of Shiraz and comfy chairs ;) x _

She heard a text arriving on someone’s phone as she hit send but didn’t think anything of it. Her eyes were glued to her own screen as she waited for a reply.

_ Ms Campbell, we must stop meeting like this… _

Serena frowned, confused and a little deflated, unsure of what to write back when she sensed someone sliding into the seat beside her. She turned to face them and felt her mouth drop open as she took in the messy blonde hair and familiar smile. “Bernie!” she exclaimed, then laughed, reaching out to lay her hand on the other woman’s where it rested on the bar. “Gosh, I...well, what a coincidence!”

Bernie’s cheeks were a little pink but her smile was bright and happy as she met Serena’s eyes. “Hi,” she said, hesitating a little before turning her hand face up and letting her palm slide against Serena’s. “Fancy getting that drink now?”

Serena smiled, the word  _ yes _ leaping to her lips immediately before her face fell and she remembered why she was here. “I can’t tonight,” she said, regret colouring every syllable. “I’m...well, I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

Bernie dipped her head. “Oh,” she murmured. “Of course. Sorry, I’ll leave you to it.”

She started to pull her hand away. Serena felt the loss instantly and instinctively tangled their fingers together, holding her in place. “Don’t go,” she said softly. “She’s not here yet and anyway…” Her eyes dipped down to their joined hands and she trailed off. She blinked hard, then stared at Bernie’s wrist for a long moment. “That’s an interesting wristband,” she said at last.

Bernie looked down in surprise. “Oh!” she said. “I was in the RAMC. These are the regimental colours…” She trailed off and Serena could practically see the cogs turning in her brain. Suddenly her head snapped up. “Are you-”

“-Fleur’s friend?” Serena felt a sweet, uncomplicated happiness bubbling up in her chest and released it with a laugh. “I am.”

Bernie looked stunned for a moment and then she smiled, her whole face lighting up and making Serena’s heart skip a beat. “She wouldn’t tell me much about you,” she said. “She just said to be on the lookout for a - quote - ‘warm, sexy silver vixen.’”

Serena blushed. “Tall and blonde with legs for days was the description I got,” she murmured. Her eyes dipped to rake up and down Bernie’s lean frame, taking in the black tailored trousers and the fitted white Oxford shirt, open to the second button to reveal those delicious collarbones. She found herself licking her lips without conscious thought and when she met Bernie’s eyes again she saw that they were soft and dark. She felt a reckless sort of courage rise in her chest as Bernie’s eyes flickered briefly to her lips.

Slowly, her heart fluttering like a hyperactive hummingbird, Serena brought her free hand up to trail softly over Bernie’s cheek, feeling her pulse start to pound when Bernie leaned into her touch. Her heart in her mouth, she let her fingers slide into gorgeous messy curls and gently tugged, leaning forward at the same time. Her eyes fluttered closed when she felt Bernie’s warm breath on her lips and then they were kissing.

Time seemed to stop for a second and then Bernie let out a soft sigh and relaxed. Serena’s lips parted and she whimpered slightly when she felt Bernie’s hand rest tentatively on her waist, the touch gentle and hesitant for a moment and then becoming firmer. Bernie’s lips were soft and warm, her skin smooth against Serena’s cheek. The sensation was at once wonderfully familiar and deliciously new, as intoxicating as her forgotten wine. They kissed and kissed, exploring and tasting and breathing hard, and Serena couldn’t believe it had taken her fifty two years to realise that this was something she wanted to do.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you,” she admitted when their lips finally parted, though they stayed close enough to rest their foreheads together.

Bernie smiled. “I’ve wanted to do that since  _ before _ I saw you,” she murmured. “Since our little back and forth about my ever so slightly unprofessional bra fitter.” She laughed a little as she gestured to her chest. “I haven’t had my top off in front of anyone since my surgery and her reaction didn’t exactly improve my confidence in that regard. You’ve no idea how much I appreciated the opportunity to laugh about it.”

Affection flowed through Serena like a warm shiver and she could do nothing but lean forward and kiss Bernie again. “The pleasure was all mine,” she murmured against her lips, feeling rather than seeing the answering smile.

“I, uh…” Bernie began, then coughed gently to clear her throat. “I was married for twenty-five years. To a man.” She winced. “Obviously. This is all a bit…”

Serena’s eyes dipped to their still joined hands. “A bit new?” she ventured, smiling at Bernie’s relieved nod. She tightened her hold, threading their fingers together more firmly. “Me too,” she admitted. “I’ve never been more than friends with a woman.” She smiled. “But I’m excited about the possibility.”

She watched Bernie’s face, taking in the blush of pink on her cheekbones and the shy, hopeful smile spreading across her lips. “Me too,” she said, and Serena had the feeling that those two words represented something of an understatement.

“Well,” she said. “Let’s get you a drink and we can...muddle through it all together?” 

Bernie’s smile widened. “I’d really like that.”

They ordered Bernie a drink - white wine, Serena would try not to hold it against her - and found a table in secluded corner. Serena couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so light, so excited about another person, so full of possibility and hope. She supposed she owed Fleur a bottle of wine or two for setting this up. The woman would be insufferably smug about it but Serena could handle that. 

She felt Bernie’s eyes on her as they settled into their new seats and an intoxicating shiver of desire thrilled down her spine. Their hands found each other again instinctively, their fingers threading together as they sipped their drinks and exchanged little smiles. Serena thought about the night Fleur had cajoled her into going to the cinema, how she’d accepted to get out of lonely evening at home. She thought about how monotonous her life had been just a few short weeks ago - work, Albie’s, Jason, repeat - and almost couldn’t believe that she was sitting here now, holding hands with a beautiful and fascinating woman, with the future completely unknown and shining with hitherto unguessed at possibilities. She smiled, blissfully happy to have taken her chance, to have said yes to a part of herself she hadn’t known she was waiting to meet.

She owed Fleur more than a bottle of wine.  _ Champagne,  _ she thought with a little nod. She owed Fleur  _ champagne. _

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
